God
by ArwenLalaith
Summary: Tag to 'Corazon'. The two of them had learned early on not to place their trust in God...but now, they had to decide whether or not to trust him with their daughters. Co-written with Confetti Leaves.


Morgan gently squeezed his wife's hand as they waited at the gate for his mother to get off the plane. "I can't wait to see Mama," he whispered excitedly to her.

Emily smiled softly, running a hand up and down his arm. "Such a mommy's boy," she teased. "You know, she's more excited about seeing the girls than you..."

"I know," he laughed, leaning down to kiss her belly. "You already have your Gramma wrapped around your little fingers and you're not even here yet."

"Gramma and Mommy and Daddy..." Emily listed off, rolling her eyes. "We'll be in a lot of trouble with these monsters."

He smiled fondly, then kissed her. "These monsters happen to be our daughters, baby." But all attention was instantly averted from his wife as a familiar figure emerged from the gates. "Gramma is here..." In mere moments, Fran Morgan had crossed to wrap her arms around her son. "Mama, I want you to meet your granddaughters," he introduced.

Her gaze fell to Emily's swollen stomach, her eyes lighting up. "'Granddaughters'?" she asked incredulously, "Plural?"

"I thought you told her..." Emily scolded her husband lightly, turning to look at him with a raised brow. Sighing and shaking her head, she turned back to Fran. "Identical twins, Mrs. Morgan," she explained.

"Twins!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear, "I'm having two beautiful grandbabies! And how many times have I told you to call me Fran or Mama like Derek does," she added, "We're a family now, Emily."

Squeezing her hand and grabbing his mother's luggage, Morgan said, "Let's go home. We want to show you the nursery."

* * *

Emily awkwardly lowered herself into the rocking chair while Fran examined the nursery, practically trembling with excitement. "You two behave," she lightly chastised, rubbing her belly where the girls were kicking each other.

Fran glanced over at her daughter-in-law, smiling. "Are they kicking?"

The younger woman gestured for her to come rest her hands on her baby bump. "Miss Kylie Frances here is kicking her sister – little Arwen Emily – in the tummy."

Fran laughed, "She's got quite the kick, just like Derek. When I was pregnant with him, he wouldn't stop kicking...it felt like he had eight legs."

"Try _double_ that... It's like having a whole soccer team in there!"

"Hey! Don't badmouth me in front of my baby girls," Morgan pouted.

"That's _my _job," Emily added teasingly.

Fran smiled at them, watching her son kiss his wife on the forehead, clearly very much in love. "I love the baby names, by the way. Have you decided on baptismal names?"

Morgan shared a look with Emily. "Umm...no, not really. We haven't really talked about having the girls baptized yet. Do we want that?" he asked Emily softly.

She looked him in the eye with a hint of pain. "You know how I feel about religion..." she whispered.

"I know, baby. I feel the same way...but would it be good for the girls?"

"Why?" she asked in a soft whine, "It's only ever made our lives miserable – what good could it possibly do them?"

"Shh..." He stroked her hair back soothingly. "I've seen some good come out of it in other people." Turning back to his mother, he replied, "Mama, we haven't really thought about it, so we don't know yet."

Fran looked between the two of them with curiosity about their reactions, but she didn't comment on it. "You're bringing the girls into such close contact with evil...don't you think giving the girls a clean slate, giving them God's protection would be good for them?"

Morgan bit his lip and sighed softly seeing how uncomfortable Emily seemed. "Like I said, we've been busy preparing for the girls' arrival and we haven't talked about it yet. Is it really necessary?"

"It's your choice, they're your daughters," Fran assured, "But you, Sarah, and Desi were all baptized – that's when you're first blessed by God..."

With a slow nod, Morgan turned to Emily. "We'll think about it, Mama. Why don't we go have lunch first and we can talk about it when we have the time?"

As he helped her stand up, Emily sighed heavily. "I _really _don't like it..." she whispered as soon as her mother-in-law had left the room.

"I know; I don't like it either, baby," Morgan said, kissing her tenderly. "But don't you think Mama has a point?"

She raised a brow. "I respect your mother very much, you know that...but I think religion is something people cling to when they have nothing else to believe in. She raised three kids alone after losing her husband, maybe she needed to believe God was helping her. But I want the girls to think for themselves, not do what 'God' tells them. And I don't _ever_ want them to feel abandoned or like they aren't good enough, the way we did..."

"I get it, baby." He gently wrapped his arms around his wife. "We don't have to do it, I just feel like Mama would want us to. It would mean a lot to her."

"But they're _our _daughters. And even if we said no, she'll never understand – she'll blame me."

"Baby, she won't blame you, she won't blame anyone. They're our daughters and she knows and respects that," Morgan reassured, cupping her cheeks to look into her eyes. "She's not saying that we _have _to do it, she just thinks it might be a good idea. We don't have to do it. I don't want my girls to go through what we went through either. If she's mad at anyone, it will be me. She knows how I feel about religion."

Emily nuzzled his neck. "The world is a damn screwed up place – all I've ever seen is religion making it worse. That unsub cut off people's heads, took their brains, and they call _that _a religion...I've seen enough cases to think that the world would be better off without a so-called 'God'. I mean, you saw what happened to Matthew..." she whispered, getting choked up.

He nodded, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "I know, baby. Mama won't be mad at you or blame you for anything. Trust me, okay?"

"I always will," she murmured. "Are you okay with this?"

"I'm okay with this, baby. I just want you and the girls to be happy, okay? The rest doesn't matter."


End file.
